


And You Shared Them With Me

by fictionalfaerie



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalfaerie/pseuds/fictionalfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five people and their reactions to Will's new coping mechanism~</p>
            </blockquote>





	And You Shared Them With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Goo Goo Dolls, "Lucky Star". 
> 
> Based on a prompt from the Hannibal Kink Meme- [prompt](http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/2246.html?thread=3516614#cmt3516614) is here~.  
> In short, the prompter wanted Will using origami stars as a de-stresser and others' reactions to finding stars everywhere.
> 
> No set pairing, but references to the possibility of two (one F/M and one M/M).   
> Also, canon level violence/gore described.   
> Feel free to ask if you're interested in more information, but I don't think anything is trigger-warning worthy?   
> (If I'm wrong, someone please, please point that out to me)
> 
> The two types of stars I reference are referred to on the site I searched them on as a lucky star and a modular star. 
> 
> This was not beta-d, so feel free to contact me and point out mistakes if they bug you.   
> If you're interested in peeking at other things I work on to prevent my "not beta-d" spiel for future works, feel free to contact me regarding that, too.

**One**

"Hey," Bev says, making Will start. He's not forgotten she's there or anything, but they've both been silent, pouring over their respective case files and making the occasional grunt or pen scribble as they find something of note. He blinks at her, eyes adjusting to the reality of a warm, real person in front of him rather than splashed in two gory dimensions on the pictures in front of him. He raises an eyebrow, and her whole face scrunches as she grins and continues, "I have no clue how to say this without sounding super nosy or pushy or just completely out of line-" 

"Has that ever really stopped you?" he responds, giving a half smile so that she knows he's okay with it. 

She laughs, "Good point. Okay, so, my sister? She's a shrink, for kids, in Tallahassee, and we were talking on Skype and I noticed she was doing this thing with this paper, blah blah, anyway, I asked her what she was doing? And she said she was practicing making stars for a couple of her patients? Because, apparently, some of her more--- I don't want to say socially inept, but--- socially inept kids get stressed around too many people or get stressed after being in their heads too long and stuff, and she's found that giving them something to do really helps?" 

"Are you implying I'm socially inept?" he says, pretending to pout, laughing even as he does. 

"Hey, I'm not a shrink. I'm just saying, sometimes you look like you're ready to curl up and cry or, like, run away and find some turtle shell to hide in. You know, at the scenes when you've done your thing or are waiting to do your thing, or even just when Jack's forced you to have a conversation with someone? So, anyway, I thought about that, and I had her show me how to make them? I could show you, if you wanted. She gave me some psycho-babble bullshit about why it helps, but I think it's just one of those little things you get in the habit of and can focus on until you zone out? She'd kill me for over simplifying, but..." 

Will rolls his eyes at her, goes back to his reading. If it was that simple to fix his crazy, well, he'd have fixed it a long time ago. The more he reads, though, the more he thinks about it. Bev didn't really suggest it as a solution to his crazy, more as just a way to use his crazy to ground himself, really... Or at least, that's what he takes out of it the more he thinks on it. And she's probably right. It couldn't hurt, could it? The worst that happens is that the others see him doing it and think he's crazy, but he's pretty sure that ship sailed long ago with quite a full crew. 

Their phones ring at the same time, and she looks up, eyes lighting up as she goes to answer, giving him a quick, "The game is afoot!" before she answers. He's laughing as he answers his own, and he's pretty sure that has everything to do with the confusion rolling out of Jack's voice when he answers. As he and Bev head out, she pauses, grabbing his hand and ignoring his twitch as he feels skin against his, without having prepared for it. She presses something into his hand, lets go, and says, "Meet you at the cars!" 

He looks down and finds a star in his palm. 

=====

It takes him a bit to figure out how she did it. He wasn't even meaning to start dissecting it, but he couldn't get the blood out of his head and the feeling of the officers brushing against him as they shoved by him to get in when he finally got done. Figuring out her star gave him something to do that wasn't stress or death or his own insanity eating him slowly, and he definitely understands now that the point of the whole conversation she had tried to have earlier was just to offer him that very thing. Once he's figured out how she did it, he pulls a piece of paper off the legal pad setting in Jack's seat next to him and begins carefully folding it so that he can tear strips off. 

It takes two tries to recreate the star without her pre-folded creases to guide him, but he pulls it off and realizes that the tactic was really effective. The group is wrapping up, leaving the rest to the locals, and heading back. He rights himself in his seat from the slump he'd slid into while he focused on the damned frustrating paper slips. Jack slides in next to him and Bev hops in the back, laughing and flipping off the others as they climb into the car they came in. 

He lets their voices wash over him, not contributing anything until they get back to headquarters and he goes to get out, head to his own car and head home. He pauses long enough to thank Jack for the ride and bid them both a good evening... and long enough to flick the star at Bev, hitting her square in the forehead. 

She squawks, "Hey! At least your aim is improving, asshole." He watches long enough to see her look down at what's now in her lap, but leaves before her ridiculous grin can reach him. 

**Two**

Alana had loved the idea. She thought it was great, praised his skill at them (which, ok, he will admit that he might have Googled it and found some ways to make them prettier and tighter and less of the amorphous blob his first few had been), and encouraged him to make more. 

She'd left a pad of decorative paper on his podium in his classroom, which he'd felt kind of bad cutting up into strips, but there wasn't much to be done about it. 

So when Christmas rolls around and he realizes he should probably give her something (he only realizes this when she says she's stopping by later with something for him), he starts stressing out. He's always sucked at presents. Neither he nor his father were ever any good at them, tended to just give each other something picked up because the other needed it, or gift cards. He knows that won't cut it with Alana, though, and after a few tossed out ideas and frustrating fizzled out before they even formed ideas, he realizes he has a whole pile of lovely little stars that he's been working through while thinking. 

He thinks she's going to roll her eyes and make fun of it, but he's prepared to tell her all about what a bullshit idea Christmas gifts between the two of them is. It's actually what he has planned- give her the gift, have her roll her eyes, and then ask her to please never purchase him anything else ever again. Life is much simpler when gifts aren't involved. 

He doesn't expect for her eyes to light up when she opens the box, finding a simple mason jar full of stars made from the paper she gave him. He definitely doesn't expect the kiss she presses to the side of his mouth, or the way she lets him push her down against the couch. They make out like teenagers for fifteen minutes or so before she pulls away, flushed and grinning and apologetic. 

She swats him on the arm when he's genuinely surprised that wasn't his present from her.

**Three**

"God damnit, Will," Jack mutters, pulling a handful of stars out of the crease in the seat, smushed and filthy where other trash has accumulated in there with them, "Leaving stars every fucking where. Should dock Bev's damn paycheck." 

**Four**

Hannibal raises an eyebrow, "That's an interesting necklace. It looks quite fragile." 

Abigail touches her hand to it and fights back a grin, "Yeah. It's- it's from Will? And Alana, I think. I mean, it's just from Will, but I'm pretty sure it was Alana's suggestion. Neither of them said that when they stopped by, but it didn't seem like the kind of present a guy would think up." 

His eyebrow goes impressively higher, and Abigail is impressed at her ability to stop herself from outright laughing. "Will gave you... a paper star necklace?" 

"Well, it was Christmas. And they're not really keen on us having real jewelry here. Or, at least, they aren't keen on me having jewelry here. I think they're afraid I'll kill someone with it? Or myself. Probably more worried about the others than me, though." 

"And would you?" 

She frowns at him and begins fiddling with the necklace. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything. Sometimes it is hard to keep myself from slipping into the role of doctor." 

Abigail nods, and moves her fingertips along the edges of the stars, counting quietly even inside her own head. She's not sure what Will was thinking when he gave it to her, or if it was Alana's idea, but she loves it. She's terrified that she's going to rip it or ruin it, and even more terrified of losing it if she's not wearing it, but despite all the anxiety it's causing her, she's found that it's easy to trick her mind into calming down if she runs her fingers along it and counts. 

She thinks it might have something to do with thinking about how sharp and complex this plain yet beautiful thing really is...

**Five**

Hannibal snatches the star from Franklin's fingers before Franklin even has a chance to finish his question about it. 

"What is thi--- oh, um. Okay. So. No touching your... star? What is that?" 

"Another patient left it here, I will hold it for them until they return," Hannibal responds, taking it to his desk and setting it there. He's not entirely sure why Will's stars bother him so much- but they do. Since seeing Abigail with her necklace, he's seen Bev batting one around at a crime scene, Jack throwing a handful of them away, and Alana always seems to have a couple in her purse or pocket. He'd thought maybe it was some stupid craft they were all doing together, but inquiring with Alana and Jack revealed that they're all WIll's doing. He hadn't asked Bev, but he's willing to gamble that hers is from Will as well. Something about the stars set his teeth on edge. And seeing Franklin with the star had made him downright angry. 

He should probably meditate on this later and figure out what is so bothersome...

=====

Instead of meditating, he finds himself a downright wretched librarian. 

=====

He's with Jack when Jack gets the call about the librarian, and he accepts the invitation to tag along. After all, someone's already told Jack that they suspect the Ripper, and Jack's called Will. He's loathe to turn down a chance to see more cracks dance along Will's psyche, and he's secure enough in himself to admit a certain level of narcissism that loves seeing them flounder helplessly at his handiwork. When the two go hand in hand... well, he doesn't get the opportunity nearly as much as he'd like to. 

The scene is as beautiful as he remembers it- the swine of a woman left draped over some books (carefully chosen, all terrible examples of modern day literature) as if she'd had her strings cut in the midst of shelving them... well, her strings cut and then her body spontaneously dismembered. He'd cut out the title pages of a couple of books and used author names to recreate her name- first name covering one eye, last name covering the other, both wedged a bit more delicately than he usually handles things. Of course, the whole scene is a bit more delicate than he usually handles things, but it had been a while since he'd left a masterpiece for the FBI to attempt to figure out. He'd debated leaving a slew of those godforsaken stars (which, he'd discovered, are easy to make), but decided that would be a bit too obvious, or at least raise a few curious flags. 

When Jack's done with Will and has dismissed him, letting his team and the local law enforcement start in on the scene, Hannibal follows Will back to his car. He leans against it and watches as Will sets a star on top of it to unlock it, so that they might sit in it. 

"These are a tactic to distract yourself with, no?" he asks, pulling out the star from his office, which he'd grabbed to return to Will. It's different than the others, more intricate and appearing to use more strips of paper. 

"I, oh, yeah. Bev suggested them? Her sister works with kids, I guess... I guess she figured I'm naive enough, I count." 

"Is it working?" Hannibal asks, watching as he picks the one he'd set down up and starts working again. 

"I think so? It's nice. Gives me just enough to do that I can focus back up when I start to lose myself? I'm still," he glances around, and seemingly sastisfied with their distance from everyone, continues, "I'm still losing time. Still sleepwalking and fighting off nightmares... but I'm having fewer hallucinations, and I haven't gotten trapped inside the murderers' worlds since I started up..." 

Hannibal nods, valiantly not rolling his eyes or hissing out his hatred for Bev. That's why they set his teeth on edge. They aren't really undoing his hard work, but they're certainly slowing down the spiral that Will had allowed himself to be nudged toward. To add to it, he can tell WIll's dedicated to it enough and has realized the good they're doing him, so no amount of persuasion is going to stop him from making them. Not without Hannibal giving away his intentions... which just wouldn't do. 

He holds the one in his hand out to Will, "You left this after our last session. I thought you might want it back?" 

Will looks at it, looks confused, and then realization dawns on him, "Sorry! I meant to give that to you before I left, actually, but then we got distracted with that case... I, so, it's for you, if you'd like it." 

Hannibal raises an eyebrow and looks down at it, listening as Will continues on, "I mean, it's stupid, you don't have to keep it. We can, I can throw it away? Or Alana might like it, I think she's kind of secretly collecting them? Which is silly, I gave her a whole jar, but she keeps nabbing them when I go to toss them..." 

Hannibal doesn't know why Will would think he would want a paper star, or why he himself could possibly feel possession of a stupid piece of folded up paper that represents nothing but Will undoing all of his hard work, one fold at a time... but he does know that the thought of Alana Bloom having a star intended for him makes him want to go in there and rip another organ out of that foolish librarian. 

So he interrupts Will, "Why, thank you, Will. I will gladly keep it. Is there a reason it differs from your other stars, though?" 

"Oh, it's... it seems really stupid, so don't worry about it." 

"Will, name one instance in which I have ever judged you for the decisions you make." 

He watches as Will smiles and thinks, not for the first time, about what a shame it is that he'll never know if Will is as delicious as he often looks. 

"That one's a different technique... it's got more to it? And it's the only one I've made that turned out right, so it's special? And I figured that sort of sums you up, right? I mean, there's more to you than most people get to see, and you're unique... and... like I said, it's stupid." 

As Hannibal catches Will's eye, actual eye contact, he gives in and allows himself an actual smile. Not calculated and measured, not forced and planned... an actual smile. He tucks the star back into his pocket, without breaking eye contact, and savors the way Will smiles in return. Maybe he'll see if Will is as delicious as he looks after all, just not in the way he had first imagined tasting...


End file.
